Just a word now and then about working in a prison and for the Department Of Corrections. Plus a good bit of ranting here and there.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Burnt In More Ways Than One

There's just no doubt that I am burned out on working the Hive. Even though it is crazy busy and the nights tend to fly by and I have most of a good crew to work with (except for that one who is always larking about somewhere else taking it easy) I have had enough of the place for awhile.

I have fought and argued with myself again and again for the last few years, telling myself I should leave and then talking myself out of it. Even though it is a crazy stressful awful stinky noisy disgusting place to work, it's my comfort zone. My base, my digs, my turf, my crib.

Etc... Etc....

But now that I have made the decision to leave I am getting anxious to get on with it. I'm ready to go.

Especially now that summer and the hot weather is starting to hit hard. Man, I just don't do well in hot weather anymore. Ever since 1985 when I spent three months down in Central America where we had days when it was over 140 degrees (that was as high as our thermometer went) and I ended up with a mild case of heat stroke. I just can't take the heat like I used to.

This afternoon out on the rec yard it was like being in a giant Easy-Bake oven. And I screwed up and left my hat at home so I had nothing to shade my eyes. Or anything else, as it turns out.

When we finally got back inside I was totally drenched in sweat and radiating heat like an old fashioned percolator. I ran water on my face and arms to try and cool off some. When I wiped the sweat off of my head I felt something stinging my scalp. I went into the bathroom to take a closer look in the mirror and muttered to myself: